


Alqualonde

by LadyRhiyana



Series: Echoes of Old Songs [4]
Category: The Silmarillion - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alqualondë, Gen, Noldolante, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhiyana/pseuds/LadyRhiyana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after the Kinslaying, Alqualonde best remembers Maglor for his music. 3x100 word drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alqualonde

**Author's Note:**

> The idea that Maglor did his musical training in Alqualonde is fanon, I think, rather than canon. Professor Tolkien's estate owns all; I'm just borrowing. .

**Alqualonde**

 

 1.

 It is no easy thing, even in Valinor, to forgive the Feanorions. Kinslayers thrice over, murderers and oathbreakers, they had broken every faith but one, destroying the peace, trust and innocence of Aman.

 And yet, they would not be so hated now if they had not once been so loved. In the dawn of the Eldar’s youth, when the Trees still shed silver-gold light over Valinor, the sons of Feanor had been the brightest, the best-beloved of them all. Those born afterwards, after the fall, after had no chance to know it –

 And those who remembered wished only to forget.

 *****

 2.

  “Tell me, Master Elrond,” the fierce, gruff Chief Bard of Alqualonde begins. “They say you were once foster-son to Maglor Feanorion.”

 Elrond nods slowly. “Yes,” he confirms. “Once, long ago.”

 For a moment, the old man’s expression shifts, revealing an ancient, weary grief. “He was my student, once. Before…”

 Since coming to Alqualonde, Elrond has seen many different reactions to mention of the Feanorions. He has never before seen this.

 The old man regains his composure. “He was the greatest among us, and we will never see his like again. Such a _waste_.”

 There are no words to answer him.

 *******

 3.

 Music, laughter and the sound of mingled, joyful voices fill the streets. The Teleri, of all the kindreds of the Eldar, love music and merriment; it was in this city that Maglor had perfected his skill, before.

 Maglor spoke of Alqualonde with such love and bitter-sweet regret that for centuries afterwards Elrond has dreamed of walking its crowded streets. The reality is a greater delight than he could ever have imagined.

 “Can you play, stranger?” they ask him in the tavern, greeting him with warm hospitality.

 He smiles, takes the offered harp, and brings forth a merry, joyous tune.

 *****

FIN


End file.
